Kidnapping Kalli
Cheryl Pierson
Kidnapping Kalli
Copyright© 2017 Cheryl Pierson
Cover Design Livia Reasoner
Prairie Rose Publications
www.prairierosepublications.com
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Chapter One
Kidnapping Kalliroe White Dove O’Connor had been easier than Shiloh Barrett had believed possible. And he was glad of it. He’d never been one to take ‘dirty’ jobs—and this one barely bordered being just that.
But, he figured, right was right. Kalliroe had two parents—a Cherokee mother and an Irish father—and her father had as much right to her as her mama did. Mama had had her for thirteen of the last eighteen years, now—all to herself. Papa just wanted a fair shake before the girl ended up getting herself married or—something.
The pay had been good—and vital, in many ways. Shiloh hadn’t made that much money for one single job such as this in quite some time. Yeah, taking Miss Kalliroe had been the easy part—but she was not, by any means, going to cooperate, now that he had her.
He’d set a slower pace than he’d wanted as they headed back to Texas from northeastern Indian Territory. But better to get back to Ft. Worth a few days later rather than not at all. Even so, they would be back by Christmas. And Shiloh intended to have his business settled and be home with his mother, brother, and hopefully his little sister and her family, too, by then.
Though Kalliroe hadn’t said much to Shiloh that he could understand, those dark, glaring daggers she pinned him with every time their eyes met needed no interpretation.
They’d ridden all afternoon, into the early darkness, after Shiloh had managed to clamp the chloroform-soaked cloth over her nose. That had been something he regretted. The look she’d given him in that last moment of consciousness had not been one of fright—it had been a glare of unadulterated hatred.
He’d scooped her up from where she’d wandered a little too close to the Talihina alleyway near the train depot. Then, he’d mounted Racer and held Kalliroe in front of him, a blanket drawn up around her to hide her from view of any curious bystanders. They’d ridden out of Talihina, Kalliroe across his lap, leaning into his chest as if she slept in her lover’s embrace. The blanket was pulled up close around her, ostensibly for warmth, but mainly to cover her beautiful features from prying eyes—and recognition.
Now, Kalliroe was wide awake. She had pushed away from his heated body and sat up to lift herself completely away from him.
“Miss White Dove…I—” He broke off. What would he say? Introduce himself like a fresh-faced new suitor on the dance floor? Sorry to kidnap you like this, but I’m hoping our precipitous meeting won’t color the rest of our relationship…
She wore the traditional clothing—a buckskin dress with intricate beadwork. Her dark hair was plaited on either side, her skin the color of sweet honey…not full-blooded Cherokee, Shiloh knew. Her father, Seamus O’Connor, his employer, was an Irishman who’d done well for himself in the railroad industry.
“Do you speak English?” He felt like a fool, asking such a question—but there was no reason to assume she did—and he hated to keep talking to her, saying things she couldn’t understand.
She didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him.
“We’ll stop soon for the night. I’m sure you’re tired and hungry.”
Again, no response. Her stony silence was as bitter as the December wind that blew down their backs.
Whether she was truly in need of stopping, Shiloh knew the horse needed to be cared for. They’d managed to put several miles behind them, and he’d planned a circuitous path through the San Bois Mountains, rather than a direct route back to Texas. Again, it would add time to their journey, but might throw off any pursuers.
Though he’d replenished his supplies when he’d ridden into Talihina, they’d have to use them sparingly to manage to get back to Ft. Worth with only one stop. That would happen at Colbert’s Ferry, when they crossed the Red River—the boundary between Indian Territory and Texas. And that day couldn’t come soon enough to suit him.
• ♥ •
Stupid man. Kalli sat stiffly in front of him, holding herself away from his warmth, and the solid wall of support his body created at her back.
Do you speak English? he’d asked. After four years of finishing school in Pennsylvania, she’d wager her mastery of the language was better than his—by a long shot. But for now, it was better that he be kept in the dark concerning her…
Still, she couldn’t help wondering just how much he already did know. He was a man with a purpose—so he was not uninformed of the details of her life, for he’d known where to get her. Her kidnapping was not random. And where was he taking her? Her cousin, Andrew, would be livid. He was in Talihina by now, and, no doubt, wondering where she was. She imagined him stepping off the train with his new bride, wondering why Kalli wasn’t there to meet him. He would know something was wrong. She’d told him she’d be there. And she always kept her word.
The man slowed down as they rode into a very small clearing at the base of the mountains. He was obviously familiar with this area.
“We’ll make camp here for the night,” he announced.
December’s early darkness had already begun to fall. Kalli’s stomach rumbled and her cheeks burned in embarrassment.
The man laughed softly. “Me, too. We’ll need a fire for warmth and coffee, but jerky and hardtack will have to be it for us tonight. We’ll want to get an early start in the mornin’. I can cook—sort of. But maybe—well, ma’am, if you know anything about puttin’ together a meal, I hope you’ll speak up…”
Kalli regarded him with a blank stare.
He sighed. “No. I didn’t think so. Well, let’s get to gathering up some wood while there’s still light left, such as it is.” He gestured, picking up a couple of small branches, pulling out his lucifers.
Kalli folded her arms and gave him a defiant look.
“You don’t help, you don’t sleep by the fire, Miss Kalliroe.” He said it matter-of-factly. Not angrily, nor in a petty way—his tone just let her know what he expected—or else.
It was too cold to let her pride get in the way. This man meant what he said. He was much like her—he, too, would keep his word.
“If you have to—you know—uh, go…there’s plenty of privacy. Just don’t be gone long, or I’ll come lookin’ for you.”
Permission to make water. That is all I need to end this perfect day!
She turned, without a word, remembering at the last instant to pretend she’d not understood about going to relieve herself, and began to gather wood, though her bladder was ready to burst.
After she’d gathered an armload of wood and carried it to the stack he’d started, she gestured shyly to the woods and he nodded.
“Don’t run. There’s nowhere to go.”
Idiot. She was as comfortable living off the land in the way of the People as she was moving through the world of the whites. There were plenty of places to go.
But he’d showed no sign of hurting her. He’d had no reason to single her out, yet he knew her name. But why would he go to this trouble? It wasn’t as if he wanted her. That meant someone else did.
As she walked back into their little campsite, she covertly watched him making preparations for the night. Jerky and hardtack was fine with her.
Maybe tomorrow, she’d cook a meal. If she was still here. If she felt like it.
She wondered what the man was called. He was…handsome. And well-built.
Her smile was rueful. There would never be marriage for her—nor any man in her life. Where would a woman such as she ever fit in? Raised in the traditional ways of the People after her mother had separated from her father and taken her back to her tribe, Kalli had been happy. Until she’d gone to the white school—and learned that the world held so much more!
And now, she was back in the small, simple world of her people once again. Stifled. Bored. Yearning for—what? What she could never have. A home. A family. A good man…Some of the Cherokee men had offered for her hand…but she just couldn’t condemn herself to the life they would expect.
Now, the man—her kidnapper—smiled at her as she stepped into the ring of firelight.
“I’m gonna go get some water for coffee.” He held up the coffee pot to make her understand his words. “You sit down here by the fire and get warm,” he directed.
She quickly wiped her face blank of the surprise she felt. His thoughtfulness had been unexpected, but she realized, it shouldn’t have been. He’d shown her care and consideration ever since he’d taken her.
But why has he taken me?
She considered letting him know she spoke English. But he turned to leave for the water, and Kalli supposed that was a blessing. It would give her a few minutes alone to regroup her thoughts. Did she really want to be honest with him yet—before she knew his purpose?
• ♥ •
Shiloh needed to get away for a few minutes. He’ d thought he was fine, but when Kalliroe had walked back up into the camp, his groin had tightened to the painful point he’d felt earlier, as she rode next to him, asleep.
“Should’ve found a damn woman last night,” he said to himself, striding angrily to the creek bank in the twilight. Should’ve brought a damn lantern, too.
As he neared the creek, he stepped on something in the darkness. He heard the rattles just as the surprised snake sank its fangs into the side of his leg, two inches above the top of his right boot.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” He stepped back quickly, his mind only just now absorbing the fact he’d been struck—and there was no doubt, it was a rattler. No point in trying to shoot it—he couldn’t see in the darkness. He pulled the matches out and struck one, but the snake had slithered away.
Numbly, he knelt and filled the coffee pot. Probably the last brew he’d have in this world.
Stuck in the mountains with a girl he’d kidnapped who spoke no English. Damn it. He’d not figured on living to a ripe old age, but sure as hell hadn’t thought to cash it all in at twenty-eight, either.
As he hurriedly stumbled back into the firelight, he saw Kalliroe had spread his bedroll on the ground near the fire and was adding more wood.
She glanced up, and instantly was on her feet, running to him, taking the coffee pot from his nerveless fingers. So much for keeping calm—she’d read something on his face—and he hoped to hell it wasn’t the harsh terror he felt. He tried to calm himself.
“Kalli…listen…I got snakebit—a rattler—” He pointed to the place in his denims where the fangs had penetrated. Would she light a shuck out of here? Leave him to die alone? He couldn’t blame her if she did, could he?
Maybe…dammit. If he could only make her understand why he’d taken her…for a father that loved her…
“There’s…a cave a couple more miles from here, but I’m not sure if it’s clear—safe—got animals in it—” He was talking fast, trying to get it all said—and for what? She didn’t understand. And she wouldn’t be needing shelter—she’d be heading back to Talihina…
Was she even listening? Of course not. Time was running out. Snow was on the way, now—he could smell it.
“Show me,” she said.
He cocked his head, wondering if the venom was working on him already. But she’d rolled up his bedroll and had begun to put the fire out. She gathered the wood they’d not used yet, and located a rope on his saddle, lashing it together quickly and tying it to her horse.
Pouring the water into their canteens to fill them, she looked at him again. “We need to go,” she said softly.
“Shiloh. Shiloh Barrett.” He moistened dry lips. “Just in case.”
Impatiently, she shook her head, understanding he thought she might need to know his name for the undertaker. “Let’s go, Shiloh Barrett. I will help you. And you will tell me what this is all about.”
Chapter Two
The cave was where he remembered…and it was unoccupied. He got off Racer and managed to get himself into the shelter, but his leg and foot were swelling rapidly—so much so he was afraid the boot wouldn’t come off. Kalliroe came to him and pulled on it until it grudgingly slipped free. She lit his lantern and slit his pants up the seam past the snake bite, examining it closely.
He could read nothing in her expression—no compassion or hate; no fear or encouragement…it didn’t matter. Most likely, he was going to die, and he only hoped she’d…not leave him.
He’d never thought much about his own death. Figured it would come at the wrong end of a gun—not from a damn snake bite in the dark. What kind of a way to go was that, anyhow? Snakebit. Stupid.
Christmas…almost here…he’d promised Seamus O’Connor he’d bring his daughter home. Instead…he’d likely wound up getting himself killed.
Christmas…always the best time of the year when he had been a boy. He and his brothers, Dirk and Ash…the food their ma always made…and then, when their baby sister, Christy, had come along, the Christmas he was eight…the best gift of all—though he and the boys hadn’t thought so at the time.
“Kalliroe…”
“Just Kalli, please. You called me that earlier, remember? It’s what I go by.”
She was undressing him! Her fingers were swift and there was no hesitancy as she unbuckled his gun belt and then the belt that held his pants tight at his waist. Heat flooded his neck and cheeks as she unfastened the buttons at his fly.
“Lift up and let’s get these off you, Mr. Barrett.”
He managed to comply, and she pulled the denims away from him, the cold air enveloping him.
“You have a medicinal kit in your saddlebags?”
He nodded, then realized she probably couldn’t see him in the darkness.
“Yeah…I—”
She was gone, then, rifling through his belongings. Then, another thought slammed into his consciousness; her picture was in that bag, along with the money her father had paid him—half of what he was due. A reminder, like a slap in the face, of why she was here in the first place.
But momentarily, she returned to his side without mentioning either of those things, and hastily threw the bedroll and blanket over him. He pulled the cover close to him, gratitude rising up inside him. Fever was coming up…hot, then cold.
He felt her cut the fang wounds wider with his knife, then from far away, it seemed he smelled smoke…she must have started a fire…
So much to tell her, but he was losing consciousness. Leaving everything up to her—this woman he’d stolen.
“You speak English…” he muttered. He tried to open his eyes, but the effort was too great.
“Of course I do, Mr. Barrett.”
“Shiloh.”
“All right…Shiloh.” Her voice took a different tone when she said his name. Not so much distance between them, now.
“I did go to school for four years in Pennsylvania. I even read.”
He laughed, thinking of his own poor education. “Prob’ly better’n I do.”
“You’re lucky,” she said after a moment of turning her attention back to his leg, prodding and pulling it gently as she held the lantern near.
“Oh…yeah…” Real lucky. Just brimming over with luck.
She laughed softly, as if she’d read his sardonic thoughts. “I mean because you had thick pants on and th
e snake’s fangs didn’t penetrate as deeply as they might have…” Her voice trailed off as she bent near to examine the wound more closely.
Shiloh cracked his eyes open, watching her. Beautiful. His breath caught, and not from the pain. Her face was not shuttered, as it had been before. He could read the worry clearly now, but also the decisiveness as she pressed a cool cloth to the wound. She dabbed away the blood that flowed, hopefully carrying away some of the venom, as well.
“You ever…done this before?” Did it matter? She was his only hope.
She chuckled. “Again, you are lucky. There are some things I wish you had in your medical collection, but we will make do until tomorrow when I can go in search of them. I’m boiling water to make a poultice right now.”
“If I’m here…tomorrow.” He closed his eyes. “Either way, I…thank you…”
“I don’t do this for everyone,” she joked, laying a hand across his forehead. “But I think you must have had a good reason for kidnapping me. I am going to find out what that might be.”
He didn’t respond. Moistening his lips, he turned his head to the side as she moved her hand, a sense of loss sweeping over him as their physical contact evaporated.
Silence fell, with only the occasional crack of the fire, lulling Shiloh until he was ready to give in to the blackness, and sleep. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He was surprised at how clearly he’d spoken…maybe he’d only thought it, not said it aloud.
“You didn’t scare me, Shi. Just made me mad as hell.”
Her use of the familiar shortened version of his name—reserved only for a close circle of friends and family, combined with her unladylike curse—brought him back to full consciousness from the brink of darkness.
When he opened his eyes, she was watching him. In her dark stare, there was a promise.
“You will tell me what all this is about. I’m sure of it.”
• ♥ •
No. He couldn’t. If he did, he’d lose the rest of what Seamus O’Connor owed him. The second half of the promised payment included something that was even more important than the portion of money he’d already been given–at least, it was to him.
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